Headmaster, Headmaster!
by gollumisthecoolest
Summary: Told from the point of view of Phineas Nigellus. Probably rated T for violence later on. No language or anything else. Strange, strange happenings... something to do with Harry, Ron and Hermy, perhaps? Please R &R! EMPHASIS ON R! THE SECOND ONE!


Headmaster, Headmaster

Chapter 1

Disclaimer: I (sadly) do not own any of the characters. AND YOU DON'T OWN THE PLOT! SO DON'T STEAL IT! Ahem. Moving right along.

I opened my eyes. Two blue ones met my own.

I gave a dramatic jolt.

"Oh, Dumbledore! Didn't see you th-Dumbledore?" I looked down, having a hunch on something.

I was standing on the ground.

The ground!

Oh, long forgotten wonders! I had feet! I turned, to see the prison I had been encased in all those years. That hateful golden frame, with that loathsome, boring canvas.

"Dumbledore, what-" I started.

"I have no earthly idea." He stated calmly, his eyes twinkling merrily. Armando! How are you?" He turned away from me, to the other people that filled the room.

"Phineas! Phineas!" A witch bustled over to me. "How-" It was my turn to interrupt.

"No clue, Dillis." The room was filled with loud cheerfulness, a sharp contrast to the usual sleepy silence. I stalked out of that office I had been confined in for so long.

Strolling down the sandstone staircase, I came out near the defense against the dark arts classroom. I could hear professor Argenya teaching animatedly, her wand pointed at a moving diagram of a dementor.  
I moved on, nearly stepping into thin air. My arms flailed wildly, and I teetered back onto the ledge. Blast those staircases! I looked behind me. A stampede was coming, all of us tired of being in one place for so long- but no longer.

No longer.

I hopped on a staircase and it took off towards the first floor. I stepped onto firm ground again and walked into the great hall. The volume in the room slid down like an egg on a window.

"Ph-Phineas?" Headmistress and Transfiguration teacher Professor McGonagall gaped.

"Oh, don't mind me. Just getting some breakfast." I drawled, strolling lazily to the Slytherin table. I sat down next to Blaise Zabini and his gang. They stopped talking and stared at me.

"Weren't you that guy in the head's office?" Zabini inquired, dumbstruck. "The one with the fancy gold frame?" I nodded, and then reached for the roast duck to show that no more questions would be answered, even if they were asked.

Food! I had forgotten how glorious it tasted. The rich taste and aroma of steaming hot bread, smothered with butter, still sizzling bacon and eggs, and the luscious texture of chicken drumsticks were long awaited luxuries. I admit, my manner of eating was much akin to a beast's.

I felt rather than heard the trundling of many feet coming down the stairs, and dashed out of the doors to the grounds before I was crushed underfoot. Before the magnificent doors shut, I caught a glimpse of a dumbfounded great hall as Dumbledore entered the room. Then there was applause. _Figures_, I thought, _Gryffindor always gets the glory._

I looked up and was nearly blinded by the amazing sunlight overhead. The sky was bluer than Ravenclaw's banner, and the magnificent arbor of the Forbidden Forest was no more than a line past the shimmering lake. It was a day when it was great to be alive again.

I walked down to greenhouse four, to see if Professor Gundy had obtained any new plants, only to be assaulted viciously by a large pink plant largely reminiscent of lips. I whipped out my wand and stunned it, which might have been a bad move. Oh well. Suddenly, I saw a short, plump witch.

"Who are _you_?" I said, rather rudely, I admit.

"I might inquire as to whom you are, but, as I'm busy right now, my name is Professor Sprout. Please leave my greenhouse." She held up some fertilizer rather menacingly and raised a large packet of manure…

I scarpered.

Strolling down by the lake, I saw a dark shape. I hopped into the water, transformed into my animagus, a sleek black otter. I swam after the shape, and saw that it was the giant squid. It reached out a tentacle, and I transformed, sending sparks at the titanic arm. The thing rumbled, it seemed unharmed. I clambered out of the lake. Hogwarts sure wasn't as friendly as it was in my day.

I saw a couple people laughing and joking around the quidditch pitch as the rest of their team practiced. I sat in a stand above the rest, and jinxed their brooms. Only for a little bit, to get them back on task. Give me a break; it's better than turning them into ferrets. I heard that from McGonagall.

I sat by the gamekeeper's hut, munching on some leftover toast. I heard, suddenly, a deep rumbling emitting from the forest. I peered into the black depths but could see nothing. Nothing at all.

"Lumos." I looked behind me for the source of the voice. It was Serle Sabal, an old Slytherin headmaster. He was before my time, and obviously appreciated that I was a Slytherin. He stalked into the forest, and I followed hesitantly.

I felt that prickling on the back of my neck, the kind you get when a huge acromantula is slowly descending upon you. I think. I can't really confirm that, because, well, I've never really seen an acromantula. The shame. Anyway.

I stepped through the dusty darkness, leaves crackling underfoot. Serle stepped on a small twig, and the sharp crack split the silence. We both paused, realizing that there was a new addition to our party. Dumbledore.

"Lumos." He lit his wand.

We walked deep into the forest, feeling a power so great it seemed to fill the cavity of darkness that was the forest among so bright a day.

"Really, Dumbledore. You think there could really be something worth looking at in here? Lord, well, you know, _him,_ he wouldn't dare come to Hogwarts. Even if you're, well, dead. Are you dead? Am _I_ dead?" I asked, muttering the last bit to myself.

"In the reign of the Dark Lord's power, nothing, not even something here, should be overlooked. _Nothing._" Dumbledore replied, gravely.

"A bit morbid for you, what do you say, Albus?" I said cheerfully, while Serle rolled his eyes at my banter. However, Dumbledore stopped me. That feeling of power was now so intense I could feel it vibrating in my ears. It was a deep, low humming, like the lowest note of phoenix song magnified a thousand times.

Dumbledore pointed to a tree. The pitch-black hole (you know, the classic holes where owls are supposed to be in in muggle pictures) had a strange point of light in the very center.

We all three touched it.

We felt a jerk behind our navels, and, yup, you guessed it. We were ported to a strange place.

The air seemed blue. It just… somehow, seemed older, as if protected by an ancient magick unheard of. (Pardon my spelling, but in _my_ day, we spelled 'magick' 'magick'.) There was a clearing. We looked behind us. The point of light was still there. Good. We walked into the clearing, first me, then Dumbledore, then Serle. It was freezing, and snow covered the ground and snowbanks surrounded the house.

There was a house, right in the middle of the clearing.

It was wooden and had only one story; the roof was made of straw. The small chimney was made of stone. It was puffing smoke.

There was someone there.

I stepped cautiously onto the porch. It creaked ominously as I put my weight on it, and I winced. I pushed open the door and walked into the house. There was a fireplace with a small fire in it. I couldn't see anyone. The fire was the only source of light.

"Lumos." The room was lit with a steady glow, and as I stepped forward next to the fire, I felt warmth rush over me. … I sat down hesitantly. Then I stood up again. I had looked at the mantelpiece, and there was a plaque covered in dust. I wiped it clean. There was a name on it… I squinted at it. Before I could see what the name was, I heard something in the next room, down a dark corridor and to the left. I peered down the hall, then pulled back. Where could I go, where could I hide? There was nowhere!

I heard a few hurried pairs of footsteps rushing down the hallway. I quickly stuffed myself into a dust-covered chest I had just noticed, the lid popping shut just before they entered. I only hoped that Dumbledore and Sabal had the sense to stay outside.

Right outside the chest, as the people sat down, I heard some words spoken by a high, bonechilling voice…

"RON, STOP THAT! Goodness! You're going to blow yourself up!"


End file.
